


Alliance

by AllTheWayMae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hiding, Mandalorians and their ways, One might say ...emotionally constipated, Paz is a bit of a dick, Some Action, Sometime Post Episode 3, Space Shenanigans, eventual smut because ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheWayMae/pseuds/AllTheWayMae
Summary: After the covert reveals themselves on Nevarro, things go South faster than expected and the Mandalorians are forced to flee in disarray.Paz Vizla has responsibilities, and he takes them seriously.  He'll do what it takes to care for those in his charge, which includes dragging you from the safety of your home even though the streets are dangerous.Now, well.  You're a bit stuck.
Relationships: Paz Vizla/Reader, Paz Vizla/You
Comments: 79
Kudos: 214





	1. Osik’la

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, why does Paz fascinate me so? Sigh. It's not like I need another story to poke at, but this one has been rattling around for a while and I need to stop starting at this on my screen and debating my thoughts on it. And I've rarely done anything with Reader POV, so that's fun. 
> 
> So enjoy some Paz shenanigans. 
> 
> And take care out there :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osik’la [oh-SIK-lah] - messed up; screwed; horrible

* * *

NEVARRO

This...is a mess. 

Well, okay. Things have been a bit of a mess for the past couple weeks, if you’re honest.But it’s going _straight off the rails_ now. 

Completely. 

Utterly. 

Under normal circumstances you would be hunkered down at home right about now.It’s the middle of the night, after all, and there is a curfew in place thanks to Imperial occupation.This law-and-order is a new development, and you have been careful not to break it.Not to draw attention. 

You don’t need or want extraneous trouble. 

But trouble had come a’knocking in the shape of 6+ feet of hulking Mandalorian armor. 

Thanks for nothing, _Paz_. 

A silly name, really. 

You’ve only ever met him one other time. 

That first occasion had also been dramatic, if absent of Troopers. 

The man had broken into your house - _you’re still not sure how, only that he promised he had “fixed the security issue”_ \- to ambush you in the dark.He’d pinned you to your kitchen wall and smashed a hand over your mouth before you even processed he was there. _Stars’ end_ , that had scared you half to death! But he hadn’t hurt you, only restrained you secure enough to ensure that you couldn’t scream for help and would focus on what he had to say. 

He needed help, he’d said.A doctor like you. 

He had seen you in the past providing free wellness checks in a market tent for local kids who couldn’t access medical care. _No_ , he didn’t have time to wait for that bi-weekly set up. _No_ , he couldn’t come to the clinic during regular hours. _No_ , you couldn’t talk him into doing so - _you just needed to listen up_.

Yeah...he had not been much for pleasantries. 

But he had eventually explained that a child in his care had been hurt ( _cut it out; stop asking where the kid came from_ ). For reasons ( _no, he would not explain them)_ he was without access to the medic who usually cared for his people ( _stop asking about Mandalorians! And, no, he didn’t care what you thought you’d seen in dimly lit alleyways_ ). 

With so many demands and too few answers, you should have told him to get lost. Insisted that he was barking up the wrong tree. 

Except ...you have a soft spot for kids. 

Always have. 

A thing this _Paz_ must have guessed from witnessing some of your work. 

And thus you had gone to the clinic after hours and unlocked the back door to let him usher in a boy who scoffed and dragged his feet the entire way.A young teen, probably.You’d been required to guess at his age because they were both scant with details and the boy had a helmet bucketed over his head for his entire visit. He was without additional armor, however, which was maybe how he’d injured his arm. 

Broken, they feared, and untreated long enough that it had swollen and he could no longer feel his fingers. 

Paz had been a bit of a bully, to be honest.He’d chastised the boy openly for not reporting his injury sooner and grabbed his good arm in a fierce grip after the kid reflexively kicked at you when you inspected his swollen, immobile elbow. He had growled an unknown language at the boy, who’d immediately apologized.However, after you took scans and determined the joint was dislocated and pinching a nerve, Paz had also used that same language to talk him quietly through the pain of re-setting the bones. 

Which, you can admit ...endeared the gruff man to you. 

_Sort of_. 

Not a lot. 

After all, you weren’t likely to forget that he had broken into your home.That was a stark horror you’ll remember for a long time. 

So when you ushered him out of the clinic you had assured him - _repeatedly_ \- that he could knock on the front door next time he needed something. You would answer.You’re civilized like that. 

He had sounded cocksure when he told you there wouldn’t be a next time. 

And that was true for a year or so. Long enough that you’d _almost_ forgotten about him.If you didn’t spot a Mandalorian helmet around the bizarre every now and then, you just might have done so... 

But now...here you are. 

In a damn mess. 

Because of Paz. 

And another kid. 

__

This kid at least has a name: Kori. 

And a face. 

She’s younger than the last, quiet and compact and without any sort of helmet.If she weren’t so tired and sick she would be painfully adorable. As things stand, her skin flushed and hair sweaty from her fever, she just appears pitiful. 

You’d be sorry to see her in such a state at any time, but tonight especially...

It had started like this: you were yanked from sleep by incessant buzzing from your door chime. 

Not the kind of thing you can easily ignore. 

When you found it was Paz, maybe you should have been relieved that he hadn’t broken in again and _physically_ yanked you out of bed.Instead, you were busy being offended by the way he shouldered right inside past you. 

Then you were distracted by the little redhead propped in his arm. 

You’d morphed straight into work mode; any beef you had with the man’s tactics could take a backseat. 

You listened carefully while he growled about how the girl had been sick and too weak to travel _(no, it’s not your business where she might travel)_. He’d given her antibiotics but the pills weren’t working; she’s had an unwavering fever. Tonight she had a seizure, _and now he’s at the end of his diagnostic repertoire and is there anything you can fucking do_?

Just like that, you had agreed to sneak through the dark streets despite curfew to open up the clinic for him. 

Again. 

Paz had rattled off a suspicious, albeit impressive, amount of knowledge regarding the patrols in the area to reassure you there would be a clear path to the clinic _as long as you moved quickly_. You were comforted by that despite yourself. 

And you had made it without incident. 

Praise the Maker for that.Any maker, really - you’ve never been picky about that kind of thing. 

You set her up on an IV. Took a few scans. It was settling to be busy and in your element ... but then Paz left. 

He said a message came in _\- from who and from where? You don’t know_ \- and that he had to go. But he’d be back!Oh, of course he would be back. **_Iviin’yc_** , he had promised Kori. Whatever that meant, she seemed reassured and even gave him a tired smile. 

No one had offered you a translation, but you chose to follow her lead.

You busied yourself bagging up more meds because your limited Paz lexicon suggested he would want to leave posthaste.Then you sat and talked quietly with the girl. 

That part was easy. 

Humble brag: you have a good beside manner.You like working with kids, specifically, because they are often easier to put at ease. They’re resilient and trusting and will usually smile even when they feel crummy if you’re willing to be _just a little bit silly_. 

Kori wasn’t in the mood for too much silliness, true, but she listened to your stories until she got drowsy. 

Once she dozed-off it was just you and a silent, still clinic. 

Which is how you were able to hear the blasterfire and shouting. 

Suddenly it wasn’t smart to be smack in the middle of the city. 

Which is why you’re now skulking through the shadows with a satchel over your shoulders and your arms full of a child who’s almost too big for easy carrying. 

Kori’s upset and sniffling, and you’re fresh out of smiles and stories to offer her. 

So this. _This_ is the mess. 

“You there!” light floods into the alley, casting out a long shadow on the ground in front of you. 

_Karking hells_. 

You freeze but hesitate as if you can pretend someone else is being addressed.

“Back up towards my voice. Slow!” 

“It’s alright,” you whisper to Kori, and you aren’t sure you believe it but you think you sound chipper enough. “Everything will be fine...” 

You adjust your hold on her and comply to the order.You have a gun - you’d strapped in on under your jacket when you got dressed because it felt like the smart thing to do when taking an unsanctioned walk after dark.Only now you’re holding a child so it’s not quite the right time to brandish a weapon, _is it_?That would be a serious escalation.

Besides, you can talk yourself out of this. 

Well ...probably.

You cross a couple fingers for added luck. 

Once you’ve shuffled backward to the mouth of the alley, a rough hand shoves your shoulder and turns you around.Then you’re face to face with a pair of tall Storm Troopers.An experience you were hoping never to repeat again after the clinic had been searched upon the militia’s initial arrival.

“Chaincode?” one of the Troopers thrusts out his hand. 

_Kriff_.You dig it out of your jacket pocket to fork over for scanning. There’s nothing damning on your official record, but you would prefer to be anonymous when skirting the rules. 

“What’s all this?” the other demands, eyeing your load. 

You bite down on a sarcastic retort.Joking off a problem is a tried and true strategy - an utter classic... but now is not the time or place. 

No, no. It’s time for _hysterics_. 

“I’m sorry,” you burst forth without hesitation. “I’m so sorry - it’s my daughter! She’s sick...” 

“What’s wrong with her?” 

“I don’t _know_!” you pitch your voice tight; a bit too high, maybe, because you're no practiced holovid star.“She’s running this fever and she can’t keep anything down ...it’s been _days_! Neither of us are sleeping...”

“Look, lady--”

“And she had a seizure tonight!” you babble on.“I just thought ...I was scared.I wanted to see if there was a doctor working!” 

“You can’t j--”

“I’m sorry!I’m so sorry - I know there’s curfew! But I was scared...”

Kori chooses that moment to sob and curl further into your shoulder.It’s perfect timing as the Troopers look from you, to her... and then back to you. You can’t be sure if the girl’s distress is genuine or if she’s catching-on to your act, but either way you’ll buy her any sweet she wants from the market once this is all over.Hells, you’ll buy her _all the sweets_. 

“...we ticket anyone who’s out after curfew,” one of the men states, though there’s something less than conviction in his tone. “And we bring them in for questioning...” 

_Double kriff_.How is this your night? You’d had a glass of wine, read a few chapters of a novel, and gone to bed like any other normal night, hadn’t you? _Stars above._

“Please, I...” you lose your train of thought when you spot a dark, hulking and unmistakable figure slipping soundlessly from the shadows of a locked shop display. 

He’s several yards behind the Troopers, and moving with a stealth you can’t believe given the size of him.It’s eerie, the way he glides forward.You have to fight the urge to retreat and give away that something strange is occuring. 

“Really?” the other soldier, none the wiser to looming danger, slaps his partner's arm.“We’re gonna bother?She’s not a Mandalorian...” 

“A Mandalorian?” you chirp, though you should probably keep quiet.

“Doesn’t matter,” both men ignore her question. “She’s breaking the rule, isn’t she?”

“Well...but what’re we going to do with the kid?” 

Apparently they’ve never tried ticketing children because the pair quiets a moment to consider the logistics. So you fill the silence to ensure they can’t hear their quarry draw nearer:

“Please!" you whine. "I just need to get her home.I’ll do whatever you need, but she needs to get back to bed...”

“We gotta bring ‘em both or else--”

When Paz lunges forward you twist away and duck over Kori to cover her face.You hear a couple shouts and a sickening _crack_ you don’t love and then ... ...nothing. 

When you look up, the white armored men are prone on the ground and Paz is in your personal space, towering over you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you find yourself saying again, only this time around your voice is soft and sincere. “I wasn’t running out on you. I just thought we shouldn’t be here in the heart of the city...” 

“I see that,” he stoops to peer at Kori; she nuzzles her face into the worn material of your jacket, but she does whisper a small _‘hi_ ’ for him. 

“If you got back to the clinic and thought-” you don’t finish the unsavory idea.“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be,” he straightens. 

“What hap--”

“We need to move”

Before he can explain further or point you in any particular direction, a soft whistle cuts the night.Then a bright, pinkish light bursts overhead. 

Flares. 

You see more Troopers running your way by the light before Paz gives you a hearty push. 

“Go!”

You don’t need telling twice and dart off down the alley once more. 

The illumination from the flares helps you traverse cluttered alleyways, but it is an ultimate detriment. 

The streets are teaming with more Troopers than you had suspected were even in the city - _not that it matters, but where in the nine hells have they all been living? -_ and the vicinity is now too bright to confidently sneak around. Paz has drawn their attention, but they’re spreading out and setting up sentry at mouths of alleys and doorways like they’re ready for ...for something.Or some _one_. 

Could they possibly be looking for you? Your chaincode had been run, so you’re in their system as breaking curfew tonight...but does that make you suspect? 

_Kriff._ You just can’t be sure. So you can’t even know whether trying to hide in your own home will be safe. 

“Kori,” you crouch behind a rubbish bin and settle her on your lap, both to give your arms a rest and so you can look her in the eye. “Are you listening?” 

Her eyes are droopy slits, but they perk a fraction when you address her. 

“Come on ...you need to wake up,” you force her onto her feet. “Do you think you can walk a while?” 

She sways in her shoes, but she manages to remain standing and nods. 

“Hey ...hey, Kori. Listen, okay?” 

She nods a sleepy nod and tries to step closer to you, but you hold her shoulders so she can’t sink back into you. 

“Kori ...where are you supposed to go if there’s an emergency? Do they teach you a plan?” 

Amongst a race of warriors, there must be preparation. Contingencies.Battle plans. _Something_. 

The girl’s chin bobs in another nod. 

“Okay, good ...that’s good,” you hope your smile looks encouraging. “Where do we go?”

“I can’t...”

“No, it’s alright,” you squeeze her arms and then do draw her in closer; she’s doing so well... you just need a _little more information,_ and then you’ll do the rest of the work. “I’ll get us there.I’ll protect you ...just tell me the plan.”

“I can’t say,” she murmurs again. “ **_Aruetii_ ** . You’re an outsider...” 

You remember all the times Paz had told you that you were asking too many questions, and your heart sinks. 

Secrets on top of secrets. 

“...Paz trusts me, remember?” you try to sound confident.“It’s alright...” 

“ _Aruetti_ aren’t _duumyc...”_ she looks sad, which is not heartening in the least even if you’re not sure what she’s saying about you. 

“...what is that?” 

“You’re not allowed....” 

_Great_. 

You want to think that there has to be some sort of exception due to the fact that her life is in danger, but you can’t be sure.Even if you were, you don’t have time to explain subtleties to a child. 

_Just_ great. 

“Okay...that’s okay,” you promise her even though you’re sure it’s not fine at all.“Then you need to go...” 

You press her away from you again, careful and slow.You don’t want to alarm her.She needs to think that it’s alright. 

“Uh-uh,” she leaps back in and twists her fingers into your jacket. 

“You need to,” you begin prying her fingers off one by one.“Go where they told you.It’s going to be alright.” 

You don’t relish lying to a child, but it’s for the best. She’ll go find her people and you’ll ...okay, well. You’re not sure.Wait it out, maybe. You have your gun to defend yourself if you need.In the morning you’ll go see if your home is safe or if Troopers are there to follow-up on your violation...

“I don't know...”

“Oh, you'll do fine,” promises just keep spilling from your lips.“Someone will meet you there, right?Paz will know where to find you?...you need to go now.”

“I can’t...”

“Yes you can; you can make it. I know you can.You’ll--”

“No!” 

Her cry seems deafening as it snaps through the tension in the quiet alley.You lurch forward to seize her, wrap a hand over her mouth, and pull her tight against the stone wall. 

You can feel her shuddering - _crying; you’re making kids cry now! -_ but do not release her. Your blood is pounding hard, every muscle tight in anticipation. You’re having trouble controlling your breathing but strain your ears...

“Heat signatures....we’ve got a heat signature over here!Southeast of the escape...” 

Kriffing- ....just _kriff_.You don’t have other flowery words. 

You stay half-shrouded where you are and shift your weight to pull your gun free.You can hear footsteps crunching on dirt...you can picture how they’re creeping closer. 

This is it. 

No more hiding. 

You’re dead or a prisoner or a fugitive.And Kori ...is apparently in it with you now. 

_A mess._

You start shifting the girl behind you.She fits between your back and the wall, and you hope wildly that she’ll close her eyes.You can’t tell her to do so; you’re not sure you could draw enough breath for words right now if you tried. 

Gunfire erupts somewhere overhead and you push Kori to the ground of the grimy alley.You’ll both probably catch something foul down there; then again, maybe neither of you will live to deal with the sickness... 

When the burst of noise quiets, you lurch up despite your ringing ears and aim your gun at whoever has come to ruin the night. Someone is bearing down on you, and you fire off a shot before you process that it’s Paz barreling in your direction.Luckily the shot glances off his shoulder guard; his arm jerks, but it doesn’t stop him. Hardly slows him. 

“Go!”

_Yes!_

“Kori, come on...come on,” you grab her under the shoulder to pick her up again. 

You can still only move so fast with her, but with Paz behind you with cover fire it feels exponentially safer...

Until a hefty weight hits your shoulders, sending you careening for the ground.You catch yourself on one hand _\- sort of_ \- but the result is nearly dropping Kori beneath you.She screams a horrible sound and you curse, hoping it’s fear instead of an injury. 

There’s no time to check now. 

It’s Paz and his impossible armor pinning you to the ground.For a wild moment you think he’s fallen, which wouldn’t be a promising turn, but then you realize he’s holding part of his weight off of you.He’s tackled you. 

_Rude_ , but --

Something whistles overhead, and then trash and storage carts up the alley explode into fire and shrapnel. 

Incendiary charges. 

No one is messing around. 

You start to choke on fear and then realize it’s the neck of your shirt digging into your throat - _literally_ choking you.Paz is trying to haul you up by the back of your clothes; you scramble to find your feet and pull Kori along with you. 

Without a word, Paz kicks open the back door of the nearest building and shoves the two of you through it. 

“I’ll draw them back here...you leave through the front when it’s clear,” he barks.“Go to the shipyard.” 

“What?!” 

“The shipyard! I’ll follow.” 

“We...”

“Go to a YE-4 gunship on the Northern edge; it’s mine.I’ll be just behind.We’re leaving!”

You gape at him, but he turns his back on you and aims a startlingly large gun down the alleyway.It’s clear he has no interest in arguing.If you bother to try, he won’t even hear you. 

It's decided, then. 

To the shipyard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm poking around here on Tumblr: https://its-alltheway.tumblr.com/
> 
> ...have not decided whether this will fit into the world of my Series. Decisions have not been made.


	2. Vor entye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vor entye [vor-ENT-yay]: thank you; literally: “I accept a debt.”

* * *

NEVARRO

_“A YE-4 gunship on the Northern edge; it’s mine. I’ll be just behind. We’re leaving!”_

_...to the shipyard, then._

So. Here’s the truth: you don’t know what a YE-4 gunship even is. 

You’ve been aboard plenty of spacecraft, but at the end of the day you don’t know one from another.You’ve never cared.They have guns or they don’t.They have hyperdrive or they don’t.There’s room for passengers or there isn’t. _Yadda yadda_. Point is: you’re not a pilot. 

Your strengths lay elsewhere. No shame in that. 

It seems like a severe oversight just now and it’s likely too much to hope that Paz’s ship will have a Mandalorian helmet emblazoned on the helm to guide your way...

You _do_ know which way is North outside of the shipyard gate, however, so that’s where you start. 

Luckily, Kori either is a teensy aircraft aficionado or has been aboard Paz’s ship in the past because she points it out to you without hesitating. The ramp _is_ down as if waiting, which is either promising or 100% ominous...

So you stash Kori in a storage bin after you climb aboard in order to scour every corner of the place.Nothing you find necessarily verifies that this hunk of metal belongs to Paz - _no “This Ship Belongs To:” tags -_ but nobody jumps out of a corner to kick you off their ship, either. 

You choose to take this as a good sign. 

When you descend back down from the cockpit _\- if only you knew what to do with the controls!-_ Paz is thundering up the back ramp while it starts scraping closed behind him. 

His shoulders are heaving.He stares at you, then sweeps his gaze left to right and back again 

“Where is she?” he roars and, _yeah_ , you standing there alone with empty arms is probably not what he’d hoped to see. 

“I’m here,” a head of tousled red hair pokes past the lid of the crate you had left Kori in 

Maybe it wasn’t the nicest place to drop a sick kid, but it’s not like you’d had a lot of great options at the time.In any case, Paz isn’t complaining as he strides closer to survey her (relative) wellness. Once he’s satisfied, he punches a thick finger at his arm brace. 

Moments later the ship start to shudder to life. 

“We’re flying,” a tiny smile pulls on the little girl’s face despite her pallor.

“Yes we are”

The Mandalorian’s tone is remarkably calm, now.A stark contrast to your own jittery muscles. 

“You’re not concerned about ... ...uh, someone giving chase?” you wave a hand in a nondescript way towards the cockpit because _hello,_ _maybe he should be up there?_

That seems like a good idea.

“...they’re distracted,” he sounds certain. 

“And ...what does that mean?” 

Part of you doesn’t want to know, but you would also like to share in his solid confidence. 

“...it doesn’t matter.” 

Oh, i _t doesn’t matter_? 

Awesome.Super. That’s cool. Totally cool. 

“You ...are insane...” 

_That_ probably wasn’t cool. And it wasn’t a polite thing to say to someone who’d just pulled your ass out of the fire; you’re well aware.But seeing as he is also the reason you were near said fire in the first place...you feel at least somewhat justified.Besides, you’re adrenaline is useless now and it needs _somewhere_ to go.

Paz spares you a mere glance, and it barely lasts for a second before he punches at his vambrace a few more times. In the following silence, you feel the bizarre need to continue. 

“...and what are you teaching these kids?!” 

For that, his attention jerks back to you in an instant.

“Watch it”

“What?” you snap; you’re already buzzing and afraid, so his intimidation methods glance straight past you. “You need to teach them something better!She was ready to sit and die because she couldn’t tell me what your plan might be.” 

He cocks the chin of his helmet at that. 

“I’m an ...an _outsider,”_ you can’t remember the word she had named you.“So she couldn’t tell me how to help her, but she was too afraid and sick to go on her own.She’s just a kid - she needs to be able to help herself...”

A pregnant pause follows your speech _just long enough_ to make you start regretting the outburst. Your shoulders squirm with it.

“...that’s none of your business,” he decides to ignore your critical commentary altogether and stomps toward the crate to fetch Kori.

She raises her arms, ready for it. Paz extracts her with care and lets her settle herself against his angled planes.There’s no trace of the armored knight from the alley firefight evident in his stance just now. 

“You’ll want to take a seat,” he tells you before he strides past.“There’s going to be a jolt...” 

You watch him climb up the ladder with Kori bear-hugging onto him.You’re aware there are enough seats in the cockpit for the three of you, but you can read between the lines: you’re not invited.You’ll have to find a safe place here in the hold to ride the jump into hyperspace instead. 

You locate a flip-down seat anchored to the wall and snap it into place so you can sit and buckle in.Once you’re no longer moving, with only the thrum of the ship vibrating you where you sit, you start to come down off the high of stress. 

You feel a little sick and a lot tired. 

The _swoop_ and _rattle_ of entering hyperspace doesn’t help. 

You unstrap yourself after the ship smooths itself and rest your elbows on your knees to duck your head low and take deep breaths. In.And out. In ...and out slow... 

It helps. 

If only a little. 

You’ve been here before.Tight spots.Near misses.You’d thought you were done with it all. 

It seems not.

But you know how to help yourself. 

In. 

And out....

On repeat.

SOMEWHERE IN SPACE

It’s quite some time before you hear tapping and scraping, and you look around to see thick legs descending the ladder.Paz.You’re surprised to see Kori is not with him, though it would be reasonable if she’d fallen asleep in the copilot sea .

The picture in your head of the slight girl dozing off while watching stars streak by is endearing. 

Paz clocks onto your location and comes your way, which is _not_ endearing.He’s probably ready to finish the fight you’d tried to pick; you regret starting it now that you’re no longer wound so tight. At this point you only feel strung-out and beat. 

“Your blaster,” he thrusts a hand out after he stomps to a halt in front of you. 

“ _What_?” you sit back and raise a brow.“You really think I’m going to try to attack you?” 

It’s laughable.

He says nothing but flexes his fingers.Expectant. 

You scoff and then do as he said, absent choice as you are.It’s his ship;you’re essentially here at his mercy, and you know it. 

You pull the gun from the shoulder strap under your coat and shove it into his hand.He twists it around without comment.Studies it.Slides open the slim bolt cartridge to check it and then snaps it back into place. 

“It’s a good size for you ...a smart choice,” you’re stunned to hear him grade. “Could probably use a better cleaning...I’ll do it for you if you want...” 

“...I can do it,” you doubt there will be much else to do for a while. 

“And what’s a medic doing so ready to strap up?” he plows on.

For all his approval, of course he’s suspicious. _Of course._ He hasn’t handed the weapon back to you, either.You’re sure that’s a pointed gesture -- or non-gesture -- only you’re not sure what to make of it. Maybe you could better analyze it after some sleep. 

“I’m a woman living alone,” you shrug a shoulder. “Can’t be too careful...” 

Anything else is none of his business. 

“Mmm... ...so you went and got a holster you can hide? Is that supposed to be casual?” 

You sigh. _Right_. There wouldn’t be any sneaking something by a Mandalorian on such a topic. 

“...what is it you’re looking for?” 

Then he’s the one waiting a beat. 

Two.

“...she said you told her to go...” he swaps tactics.

Your heart stutters. 

How exactly had Kori interpreted that!?

“...what?” 

“Kori.She told you she couldn’t lead you to a safe place to meet me ...and you told her to go. That you’d stay behind.”

“...yeah?That’s what I was telling you,” there is exasperation instead of venom in your voice this time around. “She wouldn’t let me help because of _your rules_.” 

“Never mind our rules,” his voice is a deep, resonating growl. “... ...you didn’t leave her...”

“She’s just a kid,” you insist again. 

He nods slowly.Glances down at the gun in his hand and then back at you like he’s trying to do some math. You aren’t sure what the equation is supposed to add up to here... 

“They would have killed you,” he’s not hesitant to announce. 

“Probably”

There wasn’t any point in arguing with that one. 

“Not just probably”

“...are you trying to freak me out?” you finally bristle again. “Because, buddy, I’m already there.What do you want?” 

He doesn’t rise to your challenging tone. Just stares. 

And then stares a moment more. 

“...you don’t scare easy.” 

That feels near to a compliment as you’ve ever heard from him.You’re at a loss for how to respond.

Apparently you don’t need to:

“Kori is laying down.You should go check on her,” he motions to the bag you’ve stashed under you seat. 

Yeah.Alright. _Bossy_ is back to normal. 

But at least this is to be expected. You’re not even mad for it. You just nod and swipe the pack from the floor before you stand. 

Paz spins your gun in his palm and turns away. 

“Really?” you curl an eyebrow.“You need another weapon?”

His are far larger and _far_ more effective for his purposes, you’re sure. 

“...I told you I’d clean it,” he tosses over his shoulder and doesn’t stop his stroll across the hull. 

Well.True. 

Maybe that’s like ...a Mandalorian thank you?

You’re surprised when you don’t find Kori curled up in one of the seats near the pilot’s chair, but you use your powers of deduction once you spot an open door in the back corner of the cockpit.Inside is a sparse and narrow bedroom;a captain’s quarters, you suppose. There, Kori is laying on the thin bed. 

“Hi sweetheart,” you shuffle in, unsure if she’s awake until you click on a lamp. 

Her eyes are cracked open. She half-smiles, half-grimaces at you and pulls the blanket up over her shoulder so she can nuzzle into the pillow beneath her. 

“It’s good you can get some rest now,” you hunker down beside her and card your fingers through her hair to brush it away from her face. “Sleep all you want...I’m going to put an IV back in, though, alright?I’ll be quick...”

She screws up her face but doesn’t argue, and she doesn’t fight you when you pull back her blanket to free one of her arms. You can’t be sure whether she’s legitimately well-mannered or if she’s too worn out to be argumentative, but you suspect she lives in a structured world and has learned how to fall in line as needed. 

So you talk her through the sharp poke in a chipper voice.Never mind she’s docile.Never mind she’s half-asleep. No one likes being stabbed with a needle, disciplined or not. 

After that, you don’t really need her attention.You tape the tubing into place and pull over a thin chair you _cannot_ imagine Paz sitting in to rig-up a makeshift IV stand so you can get things flowing and help the girl get rehydrated. It’s not a classy set-up, but it will do. 

You hear Paz coming back up the ladder while you’re working on this, and he’s filling the doorway by the time you take her temperature. 

“...still running a fever,” you glance his way to acknowledge his presence before turning off the scanner.“Hydrating should help,” you nod to the IV bag and then check your watch. “We’ll have to wake her up in a couple hours for more antibiotics and NSAIDs...she’ll need to eat.” 

He nods his severe, angled head. 

“Done.” 

He is sort of impossible, but you find you appreciate this attitude: see and conquer; don’t question, just act. It surprises you that it’s calming in a stern,steady way. 

“So we do have food supplies?”

He nods. 

“Some”

Better than none.You look back to Kori and flutter the blanket up more secure over her, then smooth it down in a restless manner. 

“We should leave her be, then”

You know that without being told, of course.She is sick; she needs rest. You just aren’t sure what you’re supposed to _do_ now.Your interactions with Paz have been largely transactional, but you don’t have immediate business to conduct just now or any place to go. 

...only here. 

Well, not _here_. Kori needs to sleep; you’ve both agreed on that. 

So you stretch up to your feet and pad for the exit. The man nods his approval and moves back into the cockpit, as well. His progress hitches when he twists away from the door; he pauses a second before taking another step. He says nothing of it, but you know a wince when you see one. 

“Are...” you wait until you’re through the doorway. “Did you get hurt?” 

“I’ll be fine”

Ah. Well. Reluctant patients are a wupiupi a dozen, aren’t they? 

“That’s not what I asked”

He cranks his head round over his shoulder to growl at you. 

“I know that.I can hear you.” 

“So?” you prod onward. “...you have a medic on board.What does it make you if you don’t take advantage?”

Though you can’t see a glare, you’d bet a few credits that he’s sending you one.Still, you just stare back. You’re feeling a bit bold because you’re tired ...and you are pretty sure he owes it to you to overlook a little rudeness. 

Oh, and also: you’re right. That always helps.

He huffs, then turns his back to you without further argument, which you have to admit surprises you.Then he pats his side. 

You move forward, and in the yellow overhead light you can see the fabric just south of his backplate is scuffed and lightly torn. 

“Can I...?” 

He huffs again.

“I’ve already given you permission,” he points out, brief and gruff.

Well, _excuse_ the hell out of you for wanting consent for treatment. 

You curl your fingers into the coarse fabric and start pulling, rucking it up from where it is tucked in his trousers. You inch it out of the way to reveal tan, dusky skin, a swath of which is raw and weeping. 

“Hmm...” 

His armor had caught the majority of the injury, but you prod at the skin surrounding it. This wound was nearer to his kidneys than you can approve of... 

But he doesn’t twitch or hiss at your explorations, and you can’t honestly say you find that shocking. 

“It’s a little dirty...do you have bacta? It shouldn’t take much.”

“Forget it”

Tempting, pal. 

“No

He pivots all the way around on his heel, this time, and stares down at you. 

“Look, that’s not a place you can keep immobile; you’re just going to keep aching and tearing it open,” you reason with him; he doesn’t strike you as _stupid_. “Besides, you didn’t come and try to wear-out my door chime tonight so I would just ignore injuries, right?” 

“For _her_ ”

“...and you’re a lot of help to her if you get an infection, too?” 

“You’re about to go too far,” his voice drops an octave. 

Which is almost as chilling as he probably intends it to be. 

You’re going to need to find out more about Mandalorian rules when it comes to hurting unarmed people. Just for piece of mind. 

“....do you have a med pack or not?” 

Kori doesn’t have an open wound; you hadn’t bagged up any bacta. _Oops_.

He just continues to stare at you. You don’t imagine he’ll be impressed if you point out that it’s usually only children who give you the silent treatment. 

“We’re going to be in hyperspace a while, right?I’ll just search the ship...”

His next scoff is close to a snort. 

“There’s a couple. In one of the cabinets in the galley...” 

“You can’t be more specific?” this _is_ his ship, right?

Or is theft also on the list of tonight’s skullduggery? It wouldn’t be the worst that’s happened.

“Haven't had to find it in a while...”

_Well..._ that certainly seems to track. It’s not as if you need sleep, anyway, right? 

Right.That would be ridiculous. 

So you perform your own pirouette and stalk back to the ladder to slide down out of the cockpit. He’ll probably appreciate the space; maybe you will, too. 

The galley is easy to find; it’s not a complex ship with many halls or hidden compartments.There are several latched cubbies in the galley and, _fine_ , you pause to gnaw down a protein bar because you realize you’re famished as soon as you spot sustenance. 

But then you’re right back to the search. 

The kitchen isn’t big enough to take too long. 

You locate the med packs and peel one open to finger through its contents.It isn’t as well-stocked as you would have hoped, to be honest. You don’t know precisely what Paz does with his life, but he isn’t of a gentle stock, is he? And you know just enough about Mandalorians to know they should be prepared for injuries. 

Then again, it’s clear he doesn’t have constant access to a real medic or stocked pharmacies, so apparently you understand nothing. 

There is enough in the pack, however, so you hook it over your elbow, grab another protein bar, and head up into the cockpit once more.Paz is in the pilot’s seat, hunched over a display while one hand adjusts a dial. 

“Here you go...” you toss him the food when he looks up at your words. 

“...thanks,” he inspects it for half a second and sets it aside on the console before him. 

“No problem...alright, you have ointment and some patches.Any preference?” 

He looks you up and down with a couple small ticks of his chin. 

“Patches are faster”

“Mmhmm...higher dose in these,” you check the foil wrapper and then survey him. “You’re a big guy... ...but they might still make you a little drowsy.It’s late, though, so--”

“Ointment then”

There’s a definitiveness in his voice you don’t bother arguing with. You slide the patch back into it’s pouch and take a seat, setting the supplies you’ll need on your thigh. Once you snap some gloves into place, Paz stands without needing to be directed to do so. 

Either he’s not such a horrible patient or he doesn’t want to hear you give instructions so he can tell himself he’s cooperating because he _wants_ to. That ...seems likely. 

“Thanks,” you push his shirt out of the way again and tuck it under his armor to secure it. 

Normally you would warn someone that the disinfectant wipe would sting, but it occurs to you that this might offend him.Indeed, he makes no sound or movement while you cleanse the area. 

It’s either impressive or stupid.Hard to say. 

So you don’t. 

“...you aren’t hungry?” you glance at the protein bar he’s not grabbing with either of his now-free hands while you uncap the bacta ointment. 

That doesn’t seem likely after such an active night.Not that you’re his mother. 

“Do you know nothing about Mandalorians?” 

The ask is rude, but his tone isn’t particularly aggressive so you don’t bristle.You focus on your task and feign indifference when you answer. 

“I mean ...I’ve caught information in history texts. Or ...well, there’s rumors,” you admit. 

You don’t consider yourself a gossip, but you do like to hear things.And know things.You’re just ...naturally curious. 

“Mm,” he grunts. “We don’t reveal our faces to anyone.” 

“Ever?” you raise a brow and glance up in surprise even though he’s still facing forward.

“No”

“Oh. I guess I thought a lot of the armor and helmet stuff was rumor fodder...no offense,” you cringe and quicken your fingers in smoothing the bacta over his abused skin. 

“None taken”

“...you never know what’s overblown to make a good story or intimidate. Because, I mean.The helmet _is_ pretty intimidating,” you falter again. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that...” 

“No. You don’t,” you feel the shift in his body and look up again when he peers over his shoulder. “...I’m not going to hurt _you_.” 

Okay, _okay_ , so some nerves had seeped into your babbling.Maybe you _had_ been fishing for that reassurance.And since you’re here...

“Is that just until Kori’s better?” you check, ripping open a gauze pad and eyeing whether or not it’s a proper size.“...then I get tossed out the airlock? Or booted on the next planet?” 

It isn’t as though you’re expecting to be able to rely on him for much, but you would like to have an idea of what his plans are.At least, what his plans are where you are concerned. 

“That doesn’t seem like a good way to repay a favor,” he responds plainly and faces forward again while you start ripping skin tape. “But if that’s what you prefer.” 

“Not exactly. But I'm not sure what the alternative is...” 

He sighs like he doesn’t like needing to explain himself. 

“My first priority is finding the rest of my people.I need to know who made it off-planet;my responsibility is to check in and to return Kori to the enclave” - this doesn’t surprise you in the least - “...after that, I can drop you anywhere but Nevarro.”

You chuckle. 

“No, I think I burned that bridge...” 

Given the extensive search, the caliber of weapon the Troopers were willing to use, and whatever _distraction_ Paz had left in his wake...you were probably _karked_ on Nevarro since the moment they ran your chain-code. They’ll be interested in anyone who’d been out of bounds that night.You won’t be home when they come looking, and ...well. Even an Imperial can put two and two together and occasionally get four.You are sure they’ll associate you with the entire mess.

“Fair bet,” he’s nodding along. "I'm ...well, that wasn't the plan..."

The contrition in that catches you off guard. You're acutely aware he hasn't _said_ he's sorry but he doesn't exactly sound happy with himself, either.

"Yeah, well..." 

Well...what are you supposed to say? It's _not okay,_ but there's also no going back now.

“I’ll leave you when we stop for supplies if you want,” he gives a stout promise, then shifts in a less comfortable way. “ _But_. I would rather you wait. In return I’ll transport you wherever you’d like to go. _After_.”

“After...what?” 

His end goal is becoming clearer, but you want to know for sure what he means before you commit to anything. After Kori? After you’ve all eaten through whatever food supplies he has? He could mean...

“My kin. There’s probably injuries...” 

Ah. After he knows everyone is alright.

It’s clear that this costs him something to say out loud. You don’t _want_ to pry further, but you also can’t ignore the red flag flapping around in your face. 

You mull over his words - _his proposition, really_ \- as you smooth the sterile pad over his wound and slide your fingers over the tape to secure it.Then you go about ripping a few more small pieces to secure the corners. 

“What exactly happened on Nevarro?” 

“... ...tonight?” 

“Sure,” you free his shirt from where you’d tucked it earlier and tap his armor to indicate you’re done. “If that explains everything...” 

You’ve heard rumors. Greef Karga had dragged a couple bleeding, limping “ _employees_ ” into the clinic after that big firefight a couple weeks previous, and Hunters didn’t exactly have tight lips.Not then, anyway, when Karga was still officially running things with near impunity. 

When Imps showed up, _that was_ when everyone had suddenly gone quiet. 

Again, you _hear things_ , okay?

“We had a home on Nevarro ...not a great one, but a secure one,” he sits himself back in the pilot’s seat; he doesn’t turn towards you in an open or welcoming way but does twist his face to watch you. “That was compromised a couple weeks ago. We thought we had time to organize and relocate; we aren’t scared of the city’s Guild.We hadn't counted on the Imperial slime...” 

“...why did they care about you?” you check and crumple up your trash. “Uh. Again. No offense.” 

“Not me,” he doesn’t seem to mind. “A brother. They rooted us out in search of him. We fought,” he growls, then. “But it was all we could do to get the children out, and we had to scatter apart to flee with them. We should have sent them away quietly as soon as we were compromised...” 

“...Kori couldn’t go, could she?” 

“She was weak and in pain,” he shakes his head in a way that manages to look forlorn despite the severity of his helmet ...or maybe that’s his tone. “I moved deeper into our base to hide her and get her through the rest of the meds ...one other adult stayed to finish some business.We knew we could be silent enough that our presence would go unnoticed...” 

“But then she got sicker,” some more pieces are falling into place for you, now; in particular why the Troopers had cared so much about spotting a Mandalorian. 

“We weren’t hiding in the best place to get well,” he’s vague and there's a defensive edge to his tone. 

Fine.You don’t need coordinates or a tour. And you won’t give him a lecture about seeking proper medical treatment sooner. You can guess he has more than one regret right about now. 

“I see...”

You don’t- _not_ fully _._ But sort of. 

Enough, at any rate. 

“I ....think I can do that.Stick around a while and lend a hand,”you decide, mostly because you don’t have immediate alternatives.

Sticking with him and Kori will give you time to think and make plans, and you will be able to be helpful in the meantime.Besides, just as he had said, Paz hasn’t made a move to hurt you. You're safe-ish here, and some days that's the best you get in these parts.

There are undoubtedly worse allies in the galaxy. 

“There are bunks past the galley.They slide from the wall and lock into place.” 

The conclusion of the conversation shouldn’t catch you off guard, but you do have some more questions you’re trying to figure out how to ask. Then again ...you’re also tired. 

And it doesn’t seem as though you’ll be lacking on time together any time soon.There will be opportunities to question him. 

“Alright...” you check and start setting your watch. “I’ll come up in a couple hours for a round of meds.”

“I can take care of it. Tell me what she needs...”

You glance up but don’t stop fiddling with the buttons. It’s not that you don’t appreciate his dedication to the girl, but you take your job seriously, too. 

“I’d like to check on her ...” 

A sigh scuffs out through his vocorder. 

“I’ll check on her in the meantime,” he wrangles back what control he can. 

You nod.

“You know where to find me”

“I’d say so”

He’s brusque and dismissive again. Back to par, in other words. He’s shared all (or more than) he likes, and now it’s time to get out of his space. 

You can live with that. 

Uh... _almost_. 

“Thanks,” you add before rising and slinging the pack over your shoulder again. “I know you need help with Kori and all, but ...you could’ve taken her and ditched me back there.” 

He swings his head up towards you, and for a second you wonder if that had come off more assuming and offensive than grateful. 

But he says nothing. 

He’s good at that: blank, silent stares to make you question everything you’ve done and have considered doing.You can’t help but wonder if that’s a skill Paz has purposefully honed for himself or just something Mandalorians are good at in general. 

“...I’ll see you in a few.” 

“Fine”

_Super_.You feel very welcome now. 

You don’t say so. You just descend the ladder once more, put away the med pack, and venture onward in search of the bunks he had mentioned. 

The sleeping quarters isn’t large, but nor is it cramped to the point of being unreasonable.There is some storage space and six bunks, three stacked on parallel walls. You flip down one of the middle beds and struggle a little to lodge it into place. 

The netted frame holds a thin mattress that is already outfitted in sheets and a blanket, and there is one lumpy pillow in the middle of the bed.It’s more than you’d expected, to be honest, so you shove the pillow to the head of the bunk and examine the blanket.It’s a little thin, so you flip down another bed and steal a blanket from there to add to the bed you’re commandeering.Paz had not said you couldn’t rearrange things, hadn’t indicated he is at all particular about this. 

So. Better to ask forgiveness than permission and all that.

You scuttle off for a quick trip to the fresher and then climb into your new bed. It’s ...not _un_ comfortable. 

But it also isn’t as cozy as your bed at home...

A place you aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to return to.Unless, of course, this has all been one insane and viivd dream. Which is always possible. 

You fall asleep to the thoughts of waking up in your familiar bed, in your own home where things are quiet 99% of the time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ope, now everyone's in agreement to travel together *cue handshake to seal the deal*
> 
> Wrapped this chap up earlier than intended, but whatever! It's the weekend and I think rain is creeping in so I've got my computer and a blankie. 
> 
> Take care, all! :) 
> 
> PS: (for those here who care, new chap for Unexpected Journey should be creeping up this week...I feel 99.9% sure of it, so I'm sayin' it)
> 
> If you're a Tumblr-er, here I am: https://its-alltheway.tumblr.com/


	3. Tion'ad hukaat'kama?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tion'ad hukaat'kama? [Tee-On-ahd Hoo-kaht-KA-ma] - "Who's watching your back?"

SOMEWHERE IN SPACE

As it transpires, Paz frets by pretending he is not fretting at all. 

He likes to stand and stare. 

He also hovers close. 

And he clarifies almost everything you say. 

It’s all a little intimidating _because he’s Paz_ , but for the most part you take it in stride.  Never mind that Kori has told you he is not her father, you have dealt with your fair share of overprotective parents at the clinic and you treat him as such.

Except he doesn't like reassurance. 

You decide to repeat that rehydrating in small amounts is best? No need - _oh, he already knows that_. You reassure him not to worry because kids are resilient; it didn’t matter _because no, no he’s not worried_. You repeat the antibiotic instructions before he can double-check (because he double checks all of the things)? You’re wasting your breath _since yup, he heard you the first time_.

He’ll watch like a hawk and he’ll check on Kori at over-frequent intervals, but _no_. No, no, he couldn’t be anxious. Surely not.

Oh, and his own injury? Forget about it. You haven’t seen it since the first night on his ship. You’ve asked - _because due diligence and what else is there to do? -_ but he scoffed, patted his lower back, and told you he was just fine. You’ve taken his word for it at this point - it’s simpler. 

Because if he wants to be surly, then ...fine. 

It doesn’t change the end results: Kori is definitely getting better.

After kicking the fever and rehydrating she still needs plenty of rest, but as soon as she can keep down food and sleep soundly she starts rebelling against the bed you and Paz mandate she spend so much time in. There is a new brightness in her eye that makes you smile even if it does make her a more pesky patient. 

You’d wasted time trying to hush Kori and explain her health to her and even tried to bargain with her to stay in bed, afraid that disobedience would stoke Paz’s ire. 

Of course, it hadn’t taken you long to learn that would _not_ be the case. 

He might snap at you now and then - _seems to get some enjoyment from it at times, even_ \- but he braves Kori’s nagging and fidgeting with silence at the very worst. He even chuckles when she releases a high-pitched _squeeeeee_ following the announcement that you’re making a port stop for supplies

“She’ll be alright to get out and about?” Paz appears in the galley with unnatural quietness. 

You’ve found he likes the control of asking questions rather than letting you offer information first. Fine. You’re patient.

“Sure - I think so”

“ _Sure_?” he scoffs. “That’s all?”

You glance up from the protein bar crumbs you’re swiping off the table so that you don’t look like a complete slob. Then you just shrug. 

“There’s only one way to know. It’ll be good for her morale, for sure,” that much you can guarantee. “Physically... well. If she gets tired we can come back, right? You said you didn’t want to stay long.” 

“Mm,” he grunts.

You haven’t exactly given him a concrete answer, and the curtness of his nod suggests he isn’t entirely pleased with it. But you’re not a fortune teller; you can’t see the future. 

“Where are we going, by the way? Have you decided?” 

He sets a course for Gandle Ott within the hour. You’ve never been, but apparently it is the closest place Paz knows to generally be safe so you can stock-up. He’d been prepared for escape but not long distance travel. Not yet. _Cabur II_ (you’d learned the ship’s name from Kori because she, unlike her keeper, enjoys extraneous words) is in need of supplies. 

A few hours later still, you make landfall. You’ve already helped Paz take a cursory inventory of the skiff, so there’s a loose plan in place regarding what needs to be done. You’ll--

“Kori should go with you...” 

Paz’s declaration comes as a surprise. _That_ had not been part of said plan. He had previously declared that Kori was safer with him and that he wasn’t going to allow her out of his sight. Which... yeah, that tracks.

“She’s more inconspicuous with you,” he continues without looking your way. 

That rings true enough, and it’s not as though you mind. As long as he’s sure. As long as he’s not going to be a prick about it. 

“Alright...” 

“Here,” he rustles around and then twists the pilot’s chair to show he’s holding your blaster in his palm. “Not that you should need it...”

You blink at it once. Twice. Then grin. 

“...I was starting to think I wouldn’t see that again.” 

“I have plenty”

You are decidedly _not_ surprised.

“No doubt...”

Despite his claim, he isn’t actually extending the gun to you. Is this a test? Are you supposed to move in and fetch it from him? But for what purpose...

“...what?” you decide not to play a guessing game. 

“I seem to remember telling you I wouldn’t hurt you,” he doesn’t hesitate once you call him out. “I haven’t heard that promise from _you_.” 

Uh. _Pardon_?

“Seriously? ...I’m not going to shoot you,” you snort and then wave at his armor. “Besides, I would need to be a _much_ better shot.” 

Like...a _lot_ better. So much better. 

“You’ve already tried once.”

You almost snap at him and call him a liar, but your mouth only hangs open for you to gape at him. He isn’t _wrong_ in the literal sense, and you both know it. That last night on Nevarro floods back to you. You hadn’t forgotten - not really - but it had all been quite a blur. 

“No! Look, I didn’t realize - _I’m sorry_ ,” you rush the words out, figuring you owe him that much. “I wouldn’t --”

Wait.

His shoulders are shaking. 

Could he be ...is he laughing?

He’s _fucking with you_. 

When you stop and your posture slumps he must see that you realize this because he finally thrusts the gun out in your direction. Of course. _Of course_ he isn’t threatened by you. 

You are relieved and annoyed all at once, so you snatch the weapon back with some attitude. You rotate the blaster in your hands as if to confirm, yes, it’s yours. The weight of it tells you that it still has a bolt cartridge in place, but you check it for the sake of sass anyway because he’s still watching. 

All is well, so you snap the charge back into place. 

You can even smell the sharp, metallic cleanliness from his thorough work; the metal somehow even _feels_ sleeker, never mind the gun hadn’t specifically been grimy. You decide it shouldn’t be a newsflash that whatever tools he uses are top-grade and he has more than your adequate understanding of weapons upkeep. 

A thank-you seems in order even though he had technically commandeered your property without your permission, so you mumble your gratitude to him before rising to exit the cockpit and fetch the rest of your things. 

Your holster had been hanging uselessly on the corner rung of your bed, but when you head back out to the hold of the ship it is fitted comfortably in place under your jacket. 

“Still not going to say why you’ve got a strap like that?” Paz has one arm leaning against the bay wall. Eyeing you. 

“...does it matter?’ 

He shrugs the armored shoulder not doing the heavy job of propping him up. 

“Does if there’s added heat after your a-- on you,” his gravelly accusation becomes more casual when Kori shuffles out of the galley behind you nibbling on a cracker. 

“No,” you promise. “Nothing like that.” 

“Mm,” Paz shoves himself away from the wall. “Kori, you’re in charge out there. You’re keeping an eye on her, right?” he takes a business-like tone with the girl. 

The redhead nods and snatches your hand out of the air to hold in her own and swing happily. 

“I’m on it,” she doesn’t sound very official with the rest of the cracker crammed past her teeth, but she gives a little nod and it’s enough for the large Mandalorian. 

“Good girl ...and what are you going to do if there’s trouble?” his gaze feels severe as he stares down at her. Waiting. 

“ _K’oyacyi!_ ” She lifts her chin just a bit. “Stay low. Run. Get back to the ship.”

“ _Gar serim. Udesii, elek?_ ”

“Okay,” Kori nods another time and then tilts her head to rest on your forearm. It’s a precious move, though you can’t be sure whether it’s a genuine show of affection to you or if she’s trying to charm Paz into hurrying up because _she’s bored_. 

_“Jate_...” he sounds slow and suspicious as well. 

It’s fascinating to listen to them weave their own vernacular through Basic, if also somewhat disconcerting to be left out of a thing. But you don’t have long to dwell on it because Paz is shifting his gaze to you next. 

“No more than two hours” 

The rules have already been discussed, so you agree without questioning. 

“You’ve got the credits?” he also checks.

You nod again and pat your jacket so the small sack of chips rattles in the inner pocket. 

Part of prepping his ship for the possibility of an abrupt exit had been to stash money. There’s no windfall of credits spilling from the cracks of the craft, but there’s a modest amount to get started up with. It will cover the necessities, and then hopefully you’ll find the rest of their people soon. 

You have money of your own and you would be happy to contribute if you felt confident accessing it. Save for loose credits currently littering your bedside table at home, your money is in a multi-currency account; that arrangement had always been most convenient until now. You’ve brought this up with Paz who agreed the Imperial _slime_ probably possess the reach to track such an account if they have zeroed-in on your name. He also claims he knows how to check on these kinds of things but that it will take him some time. 

So you’re rationing his pre-prepared credits for fuel, food, some clothing, and other basic necessities. Which is fine. You’ve bartered before. It’ll be just fine. 

GANDLE OTT

And ...it is. 

There’s some paranoia niggling at your mind in the beginning, if you’re honest. You don’t normally travel with the weight of a gun. Plus, the last time you’d been off a ship with Kori you’d been pursued through the dark. Of course, she had also been sick then. 

You’re both fine now. 

Everything is fine; nothing catastrophic is happening in the busy streets.

In fact, once you can relax, _it’s fun_. Kori dutifully stays close to your side, hand cupped in yours, and she’s wide-eyed with lots of questions. Though Nevarro wasn’t exactly a bustling port, there were always an assortment of vendors and people passing through the bizarre. But you have a hunch she hadn’t gotten out on a regular basis to witness much of that, what with their people’s security and privacy.

She has permission to be out with you now, however, so you take advantage and answer questions and allow Kori a minute here and there to take a look at trinkets from street vendors or to stop into an artisanal spice shop after she got a whiff of the smells wafting out the door.

All of this while keeping a close eye on your watch, of course. 

You suspect that if you’re late for the 2-hour deadline so that Kori could have frivolous side-adventures, Paz would leave you behind irregardless of the good-faith deal you’d struck with him that first night aboard. 

So you do get things done. You know how to be productive. 

Clothes come first. Paz claims to have changes of clothes in the captain's quarters, but he’s the only one with a wardrobe at present. Kori needs more than the linen pajamas she’d been hauled to the clinic in, and the clothes you’re still wearing had already been a day old when you blearily yanked them from the hamper in the middle of the night. There’s a consignment store available to make this a cost-effective endeavor, and when Kori announces she’s never _picked_ clothes but been _given_ hand-me-downs you allow a few extra minutes of thumbing through racks. It’s indulgent, but the hands on your watch say you’re doing fine. 

You’d found that personal hygiene supplies on the Cabur II were also inadequate, so those are the next things to fill-up on. Just the basics, nothing fanciful - _you lead Kori straight past the organic soaps no matter how the vibrant colors tantalize her eye_. You don’t need to transform the fresher into a spa, but you needed to be able to ensure cleanliness. 

Then comes a bit of food. Not a lot since Paz is collecting bulk rations for the freezer he assures you is working, but a few simple staples and non-perishables. And...okay. A couple unnecessary snacks that hadn’t been on the arranged list. It’s fine. You’ve been thrifty and have the credits for it. 

The part that bores Kori the most is grabbing more first-aid supplies, which you feel is fair on her part. You don’t expect her to care about that, and it’s your last stop so she’s getting tired by the time you’re selecting bandages and a couple meds. You don’t _need_ much at the moment, but you are still in a mild state of shock that his medpacks were under-filled. Besides, if he thinks his kin are in a rough state then you suspect you’ll need it eventually, and there’s no harm in shoring up stock while you can.

By the time you’ve hit everything you need to, Kori appears to have used her surplus energy from being cooped-up. Her heels are dragging, but luckily the docks aren’t far and you tell her so. 

For a moment, you think _that’s_ why she perks up. 

“Paz!” 

You follow her gaze ahead and off to the left. 

Indeed, you spot a dusty blue Mandalorian helmet. He is wearing more armor than he had the last couple days just banging around the ship and less than he had in the streets of Nevarro when he’d wielded a monster of a gun. Even so, the bulk and composition of his attire is unmistakable where he’s standing, staged casually outside a storefront. 

...is that the food supplier he decided on?

You don’t know what he’s doing, but he’d either already been aware of you or heard Kori’s shout because he’s gazing right back at you when you find him. 

And he twitches his head in a minute shake.

You’re still not sure what he’s up to, but the single move from his blank visage strikes some sort of alarm in you. Like it’s a threat. For a moment your chest goes cold as if you’ve done something wrong, but you realize in the next second if he felt compelled to _threaten you_ he likely would’ve swiped Kori away from you already. 

So...not a threat. A warning, maybe?

Kori’s raising a hand to pair a wave with her gap-toothed grin, but you rearrange your bags in a kerfuffle and snatch her hand straight out of the air. Your only reward from her is a bewildered and upset look. 

“He still has some work to do,” you invent. 

When you glance back up he’s gone, which... is eerie. Kori visibly pouts about it. 

“What kind of work? Is something wrong?” 

Excellent question, kid. To the point and with a hint of emotion. 

“No,” you lean into your hasty fabrication. “No. We just want to get moving soon.” 

“...something’s wrong,” she nods with a sage look that pains you more than a little. 

And not just because she’s proving that you’re a bad liar when she isn’t doped-out on a fever. 

You sigh. Long and deep to give yourself a second to think and to, hopefully, project calm in her general direction. 

“Everything is fine. If it wasn’t, he would let us know … ...right?” 

Bright blue eyes blink up at you while Kori weighs your words. You glance away because she’s sad and worried, and you don’t want her to be. Also so that you can keep steering the way through the streets. 

“...okay,” she accepts without enthusiasm. 

She stares moodily down at her feet the rest of the way. 

Perhaps that’s for the best, as you do spot Paz again. Up ahead at the mouth of an alley between two stores. He slips away before you draw level, at which point you see he’d been standing between a currency exchange and an _adult beverage_ _market_. In other words: two places you can’t imagine he needs to be. 

Nervous once more, you slow your stride a tad in order to thwart your instinct to speed up and risk appearing suspicious. You even nudge Kori to a stop at an outdoor display despite her waned interest. As you turn and inspect the handmade wares you get a chance to cast a surreptitious eye around the area for anything odd. 

...though maybe you can’t be trusted to clock what is abnormal since you hadn’t been vigilant enough on your first pass through the area. _Your bad_. 

But you do spot Paz’s face once more. Further back the way you’d come from, now, and inching up the road. He’s casing something. Someone. Well... _you_.

So you keep moving on casual feet, though your eyes continue to rove back and forth. You are in agreement with Kori’s assessment, now ( _something has happened_ ) but it’s a comfort to have him at your back. That sounds antithetical on its face, but there is a safety in it - as evidenced on Nevarro

When you reach the _Cabur II_ Kori puts some pep in her step because the ramp is lowering in welcome as you draw close. She scurries up the ramp, whips her gaze around the hold, and then darts for the ladder to the cockpit. 

You think to stop her because you know she’s not going to find what she’s looking for, but you’re happy to have her out of the way while you drop your bags and start punching fingers at the security control panel. You’re not intimately familiar with the mode,l but they’re all more-or-less the same. Sort of. 

It takes you a few moments - long enough for Kori to shout your name in frustration - but the ramp is eventually rising to seal you in. 

“Kori, it’s--”

You curl back around when the ramp _clanks_ to a stop and then reverses itself to descend once more. It doesn’t surprise you when Paz hops onto the ledge and marches into the ship, but a measure of tension leaks from your muscles anyway. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask over the _thump-thump-thump_ of Kori getting off the ladder and running toward you. 

Paz nods, then stoops and catches Kori under the arms when she hops in his direction and takes over, lifting her onto one arm so she can sit against his chest. 

“Where did you go?” she frames his helmet in her palms and cocks her head at him in clear disappointment with his choices. 

“I had work to do”

“What work?” 

“ _My_ work,” his answer is simple and not at all informative. 

He ignores her answering frown, but he lets her rest her forehead on his and sigh into his face in a very beleaguered way. 

“You look tired, _ad’ika_ ”

Kori twists and rests her head against his cheek so she’s not impeding his vision and nods there against him. 

“I had fun ...I like it here,” she announces. 

“We aren’t staying”

“I know,” the way she rolls her eyes suggests she’s aggrieved with this reminder, and you grin. 

“You go rest,” Paz sets her back to her feet without commenting on her petulance. 

“Can I sit in the cockpit instead of the bedroom?” she hopes aloud. “So I can see the stars when we go?”

“...we aren’t leaving just yet” he course-corrects her one more time. “But sit where you like.” 

Kori hums as if pleased with her negotiation skills and then trains her sights onto you. 

“Can I wear new sleepers?” 

You squat down and help her rifle through one of the bags for clothes she’d selected. As you’re doing so, Paz pokes around the other bags and grabs a few things. You watch him walk towards the galley while you promise Kori the next chore around here is going to be cleaning her old clothes and getting her another shower so everything can start fresh. She’s less than enthused but ensures you _yes_ she usually has chores, _sure_ she knows how to wash clothing, and _she guesses_ she can help.

Once she makes for the cockpit you chase after Paz to the galley and find him putting the wares away into latched cabinets. He’s being rougher than necessary but methodical. 

“So...what was that?” you glance behind you a last time to make sure Kori’s really headed up the ladder. “Trust issue?” 

You can’t fault him - _well, maybe a little, as you’ve been on your best behavior_ \- but you would rather know just in case there’s going to be more stalking in the future. 

“No,” he grunts, then spares you a glance over a metal-plated shoulder. “You’re good with her...” 

You’d come in here for business, to find answers to why he’d shown up like a spook. Instead you've run straight into an unexpected compliment. 

You're a little dazed by it, but you'll take that.

You can't help but smile a little.

“Yeah, she makes it easy; she’s ...fun,” you admit. “And smart.” 

“She is”

The fact that he’s continuing to unpack must mean that nothing dire could possibly be happening right now. You haven’t decided too many things about him yet, but you can say with some certainty that you don’t believe he values organization over safety. 

“...what was going on in the market?”

“I was checking for a tail...” 

_Kriff_. No. _Not dire, not dire, not dire_.

“Imperials?” 

“No,” this grunt is maybe more of a snort. “I was paying for fuel and a dock manager asked if I was after the other Mandalorian…”

Your brows pop. Was this going to be _that_ easy?” 

“Here?” 

“Over a week ago ....first Mandalorian he’d seen in decades, and now suddenly a second,” his quiet accent lilts a little more than usual with his surprise.“A few bounty hunters have been through to scour the area _very_ interested in him …”

“So... this guy thought you were a bounty hunter too?” 

“Mmm...he was hoping for credits in exchange for information …”

You wait to see if he’ll expound on what information this might have entailed. 

“Well?” you have to goad. “Did you?” 

“I didn’t have to pay for it,” he turns around, scoffing. _Offended_. “He didn’t know much.” 

Well that feels like a waste. 

“That’s too bad,” you offer consolation very tentatively. “So ...did he say something about Kori and me?” 

“No ...but he can’t be the only one around this shithole savvy enough to know mercenaries have been looking for a Mandalorian and then take notice of another one who shows up. I wanted to check whether anyone saw you with me and got nosey…” 

You don’t miss the fact that this place is now a “shithole” due to the inconvenience even though he had figured it was safe enough to get on with earlier. 

Then you have to wonder what he’d do to anyone who _had_ been following you. 

You have a feeling you know the answer. 

“And was there anyone?” 

The idea of him disposing of someone you _didn’t even know was following you_ is as eerie as it gets, but you can’t not ask. You might also never sleep again if the answer is “yes.” 

But he shakes his head, and _thank the stars_ for that. 

“Couldn’t leave that to chance”

“Definitely …. ...thanks”

He tutts under his helmet at this. 

You’re not sure what that could mean. 

Maybe he doesn’t think it’s a big deal - it had been a simple maneuver that cost him nothing. Perhaps he hadn’t done it for you, at all. Or maybe he’s just telling you he didn’t need or want gratitude. 

"I mean it," you insist anyway. 

A beat of silence passes. Then two. 

"...you're welcome?" 

You grin his way again even if you're not sure he sees it. 

“So,” you start again since that topic feels settled. “ ...where to next?” 

“...I have a couple options.” 

You wonder if he truly hasn’t chosen the next course yet or if this is simply another layer of security. You understand that, to an extent, but he had invited you along to help. _Supposedly_. 

But you leave it. For now. 

“We’re leaving soon, though?” maybe there hadn’t been a tail that he saw, but if there’s undesirable interest here you would, in fact, prefer to leave. 

“Yes”

Yet he just stands there. Facing you.

“...is there something else first?”

“Yes. I’m going to eat, then I’ll prep for takeoff...”

_‘Do you know nothing of Mandalorians?’_

Ah. Yes. Communal meals aren’t exactly an option here. 

“Okay, yeah …” you feel a little awkward that he’d essentially had to ask you to go away even though you had no way of knowing he was hungry. “I’ll put this away,” you gesture past him in the general direction of your bunk, “and then head up ...I’ll see if I can convince Kori to get some real sleep, not sit there pretending she’s manning the controls.” 

You grin like he can visibly return the gesture. 

Then you feel a little dumb, but you hide it well and wiggle your toes down in your shoes instead of squirm your shoulders. 

You’ll get used to it.

Hopefully both of you will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stocked, stalked (a bit), and now they're off to search the galaxy. Can't be too hard, right? Right. 
> 
> As usual, I hope you're all doing well and staying safe and sane out there wherever you are. The sun is finally staying out around here, which always helps things feel a bit better. I may have even got a liiiiiiittle teeny bit sunburnt. Aint' mad. :)  
> Take care!
> 
> Poking around over on tumblr at https://its-alltheway.tumblr.com/


	4. Echoy'la

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Echoy'la [eh-CHOY-lah]: searching, mourning lost

AKURIA

You have now done battle with Paz and won. 

Well, not battle in the traditional sense. He could snap you like a womprat bone. But you _have_ imposed your will upon him, and that is still a success.

  
It came about because Kori has made a full rebound. She’s energetic and wily in a way that has shed more light on the hitherto unknown bounds of Paz’s patience. That’s a relief to learn given you’re all floating through the galaxy in a confined space together. 

It’s also endearing, though you don't say so. 

So, once her health shaped up, your concerns had shifted to Paz’s sleeping habits. Him camping out in the cockpit to sleep semi-upright and (probably) stiff had made sense when it had been necessary to check-in on Kori, but that’s no longer needed. Thus had ensued a debate about who should sleep where. He didn’t want to bunk in the shared sleeping quarters with you - _fine_. He also didn’t want to take turns sleeping in the cockpit every-other night, and, _okay ..._ you’re mildly relieved for that. He hadn't taken to the mention of Kori simply move down to the bunks with you so he, _as the Captain_ , could have the Captain’s quarters to himself again.

He was just fine, he’d insisted.

But you had used cool logic to reason with him that it was the sensible choice - he was doing a lion’s share of the work around the ship, after all, and deserved comfortable rest in a room that allowed him to remove his helmet without looking over his shoulder.

_Oh_. You’d also used Kori. 

It was simple, really. One mention of switching out of the bed she'd been cooped-up in while ill and “ _Oh yes I have to have it, please!_ _Can I have a top bunk?_ _I’ve never had the top bunk_. _Please_?” She is incorrigible enough these days that you’d had an inkling she’d get her way as soon as the idea took root.

And, eureka! Everyone has their own bed now.

However, that had all gone down a couple days previous. The high of it is slightly worn off for her...

“You comfy?” you stand on the bunk two below Kori’s so you can peek over the edge of her mattress. 

Night-and-day is a somewhat abstract concept while in space and she isn’t expelling a ton of energy is such a controlled space, so some nights she’s disgruntled about “bedtime.” But a routine is important - even Paz agrees - so you’ve all been trying to stick to standard time. It won’t match every planet you go to, but it’s better than nothing. 

“Uh-huh,” she nods, only her face visible with the blankets pulled up over her head like a cocoon. 

Kori loves the top bunk just as much as she’d expected. Her only complaint had been that the room got cold, so you’d commandeered a couple extra blankets for her and she’s been a happy nest of flannel and wool ever since. 

But she’s frowning now, despite her claim of comfort. 

“Oh really?” you wiggle the blankets from her head and smooth her hair back. 

“Yes,” she maintains and flicks the blankets back into place. _Stubborn_.

You make a contemplative face to humor her. 

“Nah. I don’t buy it”

She huffs. Then twists her face to hide it in the pillow. For two slow breaths, she’s just a fluffy lump. Then she turns to face you again. 

“...is Paz okay?” 

You dispel a huff of your own and plunk your chin down on the edge of her bed mat. 

Truth is: _uh_...you’re not sure? 

After the _Cabur II_ had touched down on Akuria that afternoon, Paz had swiftly set ground rules. Well, one rule. And it was simple: don’t leave the ship. 

Which, hey, _fine by you_. The place had looked like a cold, sleety nightmare when you landed.

Then he’d disembarked on his own to go search through a mining system he hoped would house his brethren. It might be a few hours, he’d warned, because he’d landed a ways off in case they didn’t recognize his ship. Everyone is likely on high-alert so he didn’t want to set anyone off. 

Once again, you were good with that; getting shot out of the sky sounds like the world’s worst “welcome home.” 

But then _‘a few hours_ ’ turned into several hours. He hadn’t arrived until well after night descended on the planet, and his return hadn’t exactly been pleasant. He’d stomped in, taken one look at you and Kori playing cards in the galley, and then declared she should already be in bed before either of you could ask how things had gone. 

Which was answer enough.

You’d opened your mouth to explain Kori wanted to wait up for him, that she’d been both excited and worried... but he’d already been marching away again. There had been a petulance to this that irked you, so you stood to follow right after him. You’d only gotten a few steps before he slammed his hand on the fresher’s doorlock with enough force to stop you dead in your tracks. _Right_. He’s twice your size, so it was probably best to give him space when he was worked up… ...  


As the only other adult on board, you know it's your duty to check-in with him. Or. It _will_ be.

Kori’s simpler for now. 

“Yeah, he’s alright. But he must’ve had a long walk, and it’s cold out there... I’m sure he’s tired.”

The cold tends to make _you_ grumpy, so this is merely a projection. But it feels realistic. 

“...maybe...”

“What? You think you’d have fun out there in the freezing rain, Miss-I-Need-All-The-Blankets?” you tug light and playful at her covers. 

She tightens her hold on them but smiles a little. It’s better than nothing.

“No…but ... ...he didn’t find anyone, did he?” 

“...no, kid,” you tell it to her like it is. “I don’t think so.”

Her bright blue eyes nearly sparkle with the extra moisture that floods them. 

“Is he scared?” she whispers, ever so casually _breaking your damn heart_. 

Joke’s on you for thinking this was going to be simple. 

But you focus on her words and...you have to figure that, _yes_ , he probably is. 

You also figure there is something vital for her in the lesson that everyone is scared sometimes - _even if they’re adults and even if they’re strong or brave_. However, you’re all venturing into the unknown and maybe Kori needs to see Paz as indestructible right now. That’s important, too, and you can’t bring yourself to take that notion away from her. 

“Are _you_ scared?” You shelve the life lesson in favor of what is immediately going on in front of you. 

She squeezes her eyes closed and turns her face into the squishy safety of her pillow again, but this time she’s nodding into it. 

“Alright ...that’s alright,” you promise before planting your hands flat on her bed and grunting: “Move over, I’m coming up… ...” 

She peeks at you hoisting yourself into the bed and squeaks in surprise, though she is quick to roll over and accommodate you. The movement dislodges the neat way she’d wrapped herself up in her blankets, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Because she’s small, you’re able to lay down on your back next to her in the cramped bunk, and she immediately rests her head on your shoulder. 

“It’s okay to be scared sometimes,” you state without hesitation. 

You’re not positive you’re qualified to have this conversation with her since you have no idea what Mandalorians like to say about fear or bravery or ...well _anything_ , really. 

“...are _you_ scared?” 

“Not right now,” you shrug since things are quiet and you, too, feel a certain security with Paz that you know you shouldn’t rely on too heavily. 

“...but when?” 

“Well ...I was scared of the storm troopers back on Nevarro,” you think back to something she’ll recognize as fearful, too.

“Mmm...you didn’t look scared.” 

You feel the tiniest swell of pride. 

Then again, she’d been high on fever, _so_. 

“Well, you get older and you learn how to do what you need to do ...even when you’re scared…” 

You aren’t sure exactly when you’d learned that and hope she doesn’t ask for details. 

“I’ll be a Mandalorian,” she chirps instead. “I’ll know what to do…” 

Hmmm.

“You’re ... _not_ a Mandalorian now?” 

“Mm-mmm…” you feel her squirm beside you and glance down at her. “I haven’t sworn the Creed yet, though...” 

She’s saying that like it means something, so you file it away for later. 

“Okay ...yeah, you’ll know what to do,” you roll with it. “Until then, we’ll help you...and you can say when you’re scared. We’ll help you then, too.” 

“But _Varro_ says only babies are scared”

You hope this _Varro_ isn’t important and tutt loudly enough that she’ll hear your disdainful sass. 

She snickers.

“I don’t know who that is, but maybe they need a kick to the shin,” you propose and hope that’s very Mandalorian-esque. “...you’re young. You don’t need to have all the answers yet…” 

As you rotate your head back around to study the corrugated ceiling, something catches your attention at the corner of your eye. Shifting your gaze further, you find Paz filling the doorway. 

Your heart stutters in case you’re _far out of line._

But he says nothing. 

“Do _you_ have all the answers?” 

“Uh…” you’re still watching Paz and lift your head to address him, instead, but he inclines his chin in silent recognition and takes a step back to effectively disappear...though he may be lingering still. “What?” you buy yourself an extra moment. 

“Do _you_ have all the answers?” Kori asks again with some exasperation. 

You wheeze a little laugh out of your nose for her. 

“No. Not yet,” you look down and see her frowning in consternation like this doesn’t at all fit with her mental image of adults. “ _But_ _…_ I usually know how to find them. And that’s half the battle.” 

Some of the pinched tension leaves her face. 

“So you’re smart,” she tilts her chin up to smile at you. 

“I like to think so”

“ _I_ think so”

_Flatterer._

“I think you’re pretty smart, too….” 

“I _did_ teach you cu’bikad...” she sighs with no small amount of drama. 

You nod along. Two days ago she’d drawn up a game board on an empty, dismantled box so she could teach you a favorite game from home. Paz had shown up to correct the board a little - she’d miscounted the spaces but otherwise he complimented the straight lines of her reconstruction - and explain some of the rules she glossed over too carelessly. You’re still somewhat disturbed that the game involves small _knives,_ but she played thoughtfully and had more-or-less taught you well. 

“That’s true...I had a lot of questions, didn’t I?” 

“Mmhmm”

“So you see? You’ll know how to figure things out, too ...and you always remember the instructions Paz gives you. That’s smart, too.” 

“Yeah,” she agrees softly. I do...” 

“...and Paz is alright,” you promise after darting a look towards the door, wondering if he was out there. “We’re going to figure things out.” 

Kori heaves a sigh that has no right fluttering out of someone her age. Your heart clenches and you worm an arm out to curl around her shoulders and cuddle her more properly. 

“You’re a good kid” 

“You’re a good … ...doctor,” she returns obligatorily and you laugh. 

“Then it’s my prescription that you get to sleep”

“Are you leaving?” she checks and readjusts her blankets back to the way she wants them. 

You help her tuck them into place while you assure her you’ll stick around a while. It’s for her, mostly, but maybe it’s a little for you, too ...you’re finding your own solace in comforting her. No one’s been talking about the fact that things are currently pretty rough. Only now that _you_ are finding this conversation relaxing are you realizing that this chat is overdue with Kori. _Long_ overdue, probably. 

You’re not sure yet whether that’s a point that should be emphasized to Paz. He is her ...keeper? De facto guardian? He’s important, whatever he is. He probably has more business being on top of this than you.

But maybe Kori wouldn’t want to have this conversation with him. Maybe being _auretii_ is actually working in your favor on this one. 

She is either still awake when you try to slip away, or you rouse her in the act of finagling out of the bunk without falling on your face. 

“Good night,” her voice is muzzy, and all she does after talking is wiggle further into her pillow. 

“Night,” you return just as quietly and shuffle away to dim the lights and leave the sleeping quarters. 

Paz, to your relief, is not waiting right outside the door to tell you you've overstepped. 

You don’t see him anywhere, in fact, so you have to assume he’s in the cockpit. You have already promised yourself that, _yes_ , you will check-in with him to see what happened out there ...but you’re also hesitant. He’s been rather placid since Nevarro - if a little intense at the last port _-_ so his blatant anger had been a change. 

So, like the oh-so-valiant comrade you are, you decide to go clean yours and Kori’s game in the galley before you go up to face him. 

Except the table is already straightened up when you get there. The cards are picked up and tucked away on the back of the table’s booth, and the napkin from Kori’s snack is nowhere to be seen. Even the stray crumbs that had missed the napkin have been disappeared away. 

Cool cool cool. 

Still, you scuffle your feet a little and take an unneeded pitstop in the fresher before making way for the ladder. 

“I’m coming up,” you call ahead of yourself in case he’s eating or just getting some air up there. 

There’s no response so no reason to wait. No going back. 

You grab onto the ladder and chastise yourself as you ascend. Paz hasn’t hurt you - in fact, he has explicitly told you he won’t. He’s just so unknown. The fact that he’s tucked behind armor practically screams he _wants_ to be unknown. 

Granted, you’re working on it. 

And it’s getting easier every day. 

He’s just thrown you off tonight. 

Paz is silent when you enter, which is something of a surprise. You have found that he has a comment for most occasions. Sometimes sarcastic, but even that you don’t mind….uh, _usually,_ anyhow. Banter is how you’re getting to know each other. He pokes; you parry. Eventually you will have one another mapped out.

His quiet is probably just an emphasis that this is a bad time. You should leave any questions you have for later…

Then again, if he didn’t want attention perhaps he shouldn’t have made a scene. 

So you decide to treat the silence as amicable and test your welcome by dropping into the co-pilot seat. When he doesn’t gripe or try to order you out of his sight, you feel comfortable going on.

“So ...I’m guessing we’re leaving?” 

“First thing in the morning,” he confirms. 

It’s dark out but you can see the sleet has resumed and is sluicing down the duraglass windows before you. You aren’t happy he didn’t find his people here, but you are glad you don’t need to venture out there. Just the sight of it gives you a little shiver, and you find yourself hoping he’d used his time in the Fresher to take a warm shower while you made Kori get ready for bed. 

“I’m sorry,” this sentiment is true, regardless of temperature. “You know ...that this was a bust...” 

He grunts, then states without passion, “Odds were never great here.”

Even without inflection you know he _is_ mad. He’s already proved that. 

“Still ...it was nice to feel hopeful for a while”

“...yes,” his small word feels like a big admission so you let the two of you sit with it a while. 

Then you clear your throat and go on. 

“Was there ...a problem?” you survey him slowly, though he hadn’t limped or shown signs of injury when he got back. “You took a while.” 

“... ...I was being thorough.” 

You wonder at the true meaning of that but don’t press. If he’d had a ... _moment_ back there, it isn’t your business. It was good he’d been on his own to vent the pressure valve, probably. 

“Okay. We were a little worried … ...and Kori,” you feel compelled to defend her. "...she's a good kid."

"I know that," he spins is dark faceplate towards you. 

"She just wanted to wait f---”

“I’ll talk to her,” he tries cutting you off at the pass. 

You sigh. 

"... ...if I overstepped with her--"

"You didn't," he cuts you off again but it feels less rushed and rude this time. "I'm ...glad she talked with you." 

Well well well. You're not sure how much he'd overheard but apparently you hadn't pointed her in an un-Mandalorian direction. 

“Then, we were just worried, you know? ... don’t be a dick,” you dig your fingernails into the thin padding of the armrest and  quell your nerves with his own promise- _‘I’m not going to hurt you.’_

His shoulders square like he’s going to _at least_ give you a piece of his mind, however. So you brace for it. 

It doesn’t come. 

He relaxes and makes a sound that’s some combination of a sigh and a snort. 

“I’ll set up a comm frequency next time,” he adds, making it clear he doesn’t want more information on the situation and somehow comforting you all at the same time. 

That ...seems like a previous oversight, actually.

“... good idea.” 

A simple and quick solution. Then you could save the worrying for if he didn’t answer, and then it would at least be justified. 

The topic feels settled. If only for now. 

“So. Where to next?”

“We’ll head to Taris”

Another place you’ve never been. If nothing else, you’ll get a galactic tour out of this expedition...maybe a cultural education. 

“You said before that you had a lot of options ...why Taris?”

“Mm,” he eyes you briefly before answering. “...Taris is the next closest.”

“Okay,” you decide it tracks that he’s pragmatic. “And how many options are there in total?”

“Several” 

It’s also on-brand for him to be concise, but he doesn’t need to sound so shit-eating about it. 

“Look, I’m not asking to be a nosey. I just want to know the odds of -”

“Several,” he repeats. “A lot of safe houses have been established ...some that are visited now and then by our own when they’re traveling through, some that haven’t been. We sent scouts out to determine which was still best suited for our numbers …so we wouldn’t need to fraction down at all.”

_'We thought we had more time’_

You remember these words from your first night questioning him, and you can color in some of the blank spaces. They _hadn’t_ had the time, of course. Scouts hadn’t been able to travel out and back to bring information and make decisions yet. They _are_ fractured, and there hadn’t been time for a pre-set plan for him and Kori - or any of them - to follow. The unexpected imperial swarm on Nevarro had thwarted that. 

Yeah. No wonder he doesn’t like addressing it. 

“So ...money really might become a serious issue soon,” you can be practical, too. 

“I see you’re not an optimist,” he grumbles and faces forward again. 

“Realist,” you counter. 

“Hmm…” he jabs at a few dials you assume aren’t wholly necessary, not that you’d know for sure. “Yes. Money could be ...a barrier. Soon.”

It’s possible to travel smart. Trading is always a thrifty possibility, for instance, but nothing is free. And who knows how many planets you’ll need to hop between... 

“Have you found out anything about my accounts?” 

“Not yet. I will,” he grumbles. 

“Well, I can always try looking for clinic work when we’re planet-side, too, if Taris doesn’t pan-out.”

The thing about sick people is: _they’re everywhere._ Which….yeah, alright. That’s not ideal in the grand scheme of the galaxy, but it could still be fortunate for your future wallet. 

“Just keep watching over Kori for now”

“I’m happy to help”

“That _is_ helping”

You wouldn’t call it a newsflash that he’s stubborn, but _Maker_. 

“Look--”

You stop and grit your teeth. After a breath - _eh_ , _better make it two_ \- you remind yourself this doesn’t need to be an immediate issue. You can return to it when the time comes. If you're lucky, the time _won't come at all._

“...what will you do about credits then?” you change tactics. “Are you really a bounty hunter? You know ...like the man on Gandle Ott thought?”

The one who’d wanted money in exchange for what he knew ...Paz had gotten information without the payment like a professional bully. You suppose he might be a good mercenary, if only given his size for intimidation factor. 

“I have been,” he says offhand and rolls a casual shoulder. “Someone will offer work … ...people see certain things when they see a Mandalorian.” 

You think there’s a sneer in his voice, here. 

All you can imagine off of that statement is violence. That makes sense in an inevitable sort of way, though it makes you wary. But you’re also not naive; you understand doing what needs to be done. 

You’d like to know more about the kind of work he has experience with, but it feels invasive to ask. Though, actually ... he might _like_ the opportunity to tell you a criminal story and see what your take is. That seems up his alley, the way he’s always poking and prodding, never quite letting you off your toes. 

“I _am_ sorry,” you like to think you keep him on his toes in some ways, too. “This can’t be easy…” 

In your periphery, you can see he’s watching you again. You pretend not to feel it and follow the trails of slushy water in the glow of the dash. 

“... ..we had strength in numbers once.” 

This isn’t a direct response, but when you turn a questioning brow to him he’s looking out the glass too. 

You know what he’s talking about. _Mandalore_. In all the stories, that’s where the Mandalorians had lived. Not in hidey holes on planets like Nevarro in numbers so swiftly overrun. 

You wonder if he had lived there himself, but you think better than to ask. 

“The Empire, right?” 

“...among other things,” his voice is less of a growl. 

It’s something smoother, suddenly. Something _darker_. 

“... ...how many Mandalorians are there now?” 

If asking about his work had felt invasive, you feel downright rude now. But the question whirling in your mind just bubbles out. And ... _he’d_ brought it up, hadn’t he? Yes.

Though you decide not to be offended if he tells you to fuck straight off. 

"There's enough,” the answer is a little ominous and even more evasive, but it’s telling, too. 

And .. _.are there, though_?

You do not ask.

“Were ...your family that was on Nevarro. Are there _other_ Mandalorians? More?” you continue on even though you’re squirming like an idiot. 

“Yes”

Oh, _thank stars._

“Some of us have come across other Mandalorians here and there,” Paz actually goes on without goading. “They talk of their own enclaves. Of rebuilding…”

“As in….” you raise your hands and mesh your fingers together in front of you, “join forces?” 

Look at you being tactical and shit. 

“Do it too soon and our numbers are big enough to threaten others but not to hold down a territory,” he sounds entirely _more_ tactical. “It’s a common debate...”

You wonder where _he_ falls on that argument. 

“...sounds complicated.” 

He just scoffs. 

And he says no more. 

That's fine. Even the barest overview of Mandalorian politics is more than you’d have expected, so you’re still coming out way ahead here. He hasn’t shared his personal philosophy but you get the sentiment whether he’d truly wanted you to or not: _yeah, it isn’t easy_. 

You sigh and grope around mentally for reciprocity. 

There _is_ a thing he’s asked that you haven’t answered. So you go for it.

“I grew up on Alderaan,” you sigh and fiddle with the buttons of your top rather than acknowledge his head swiveling around to look at you. “Yeah, I guess you don’t meet a ton of us anymore … ...I was off world with a traveling med unit when the Empire, well …” 

You know you don’t have to say it. These days everyone knows of Alderaan’s destruction. 

“My brothers had already taken up with the Rebels ...they tracked me down, brought me to their base so we could stick together After that I rotated between a few different strongholds working triage during the war.”

“... ...that explains your gun?” 

You nod. 

“A welcome to the rebellion gift from them” 

He chuffs under his helmet. You imagine that he likes your brothers’ style, so you chuckle too. 

“They both died during the Battle of Endor,” you finish and finally get sick of watching the _drip-dripping_ water so you look away from the duraglass and pick at the seam of your pants thoughtlessly. “I stuck around a while after that, but it was hard without them... so I left. Took up with a new mobile med clinic. We traveled a circuit of outer rim planets that don’t have access to advanced healthcare.” 

“...and Nevarro?” 

“Seemed about as good as anywhere”

Nothing specific had drawn you there, really. You just didn’t have any other particular place to be, so when you’d felt the itch to put down roots you just ... _picked_. 

“That’s ...a long road”

It’s not much of a sentiment, but it is one nonetheless. So you agree with a nod.

_Nothing’s easy._

You both sit for a while in the resulting conversational void. 

Maybe you should leave him be. You can go check on Kori and turn in a little early yourself. 

You also don’t want to. 

So you slouch down to stay a while. You roll your neck, twist a few cricks out of your back, and then kick your feet up onto the edge of the console to relax whil--

"Off the dash," Paz aims a swift slap at your shoes and knocks your feet down without preamble. 

Which. Okay. That wasn’t the most well-mannered thing you’ve ever done even if it felt _so satisfying_ to stretch out. You’re chagrined just enough to chuckle awkwardly and offer a hasty apology. 

He doesn’t respond except to scoff, and you rearrange yourself in the seat with your legs folded up against you instead. Only then does he twist his head again to give you a minute up-and-down. 

“... _that_ hardly looks comfortable.” 

You grin and swallow the comment that _he’d ruined_ your preferable position. You just curl an arm around your knee in a leisurely way to prove that, yes, you are quite comfortable. _Thanks_. 

“Maybe you could manage it if you weren’t weighed down in armor,” you joke before realizing that it must sound dismissive. “I mean…I’m not making fun, or ... _shit_ ,” you realize your retraction isn’t well thought-out so you just grimace the rest of your apology. 

He merely tilts his chin at you. 

“I’m capable of understanding nuance”

“...right. No,” you nod because he _has_ proven to have a sense of humor even if it tilts a little rude at times. “I just don’t know all the rules,” you wave a vague gesture at his helmet with your fingers. 

“They’re straightforward.” 

Alright. _Burn_. 

He doesn’t continue, and you go ahead and take him at his word. That he understood your comment was more about his size than a jab at the reasons behind it all. 

And you suppose he’s sort of right. He’d spelled out the no-face-to-face thing to you right off the bat; it _is_ straight forward. That bit hasn’t wavered once. And he does always have armor on...just not all of it. Not all the time. 

There is what you think of as “battle-mode” attire that he’d shown up in to attack the Troopers on Nevarro. Then there’s armor-lite for your more casual legendary warrior - still armed and bulky but without a few gratuitous weapons- which he’d ventured out in back on Gandle Ott . While you’re in hyperspace he takes a few extra pieces off to move around more freely since there aren’t potential bodily threats lurking around every corner here. He also ditches his gloves when it’s convenient. He’s even let Kori, laughing, put his vambraces over her own little arms to practice reading some of the nav controls that could be pulled up on the display window. 

You make a mental note to ask Kori about the details since he thinks it’s so straightforward. She’ll likely tell you - the armor part if their culture isn’t exactly secret so your _auretii status_ shouldn’t matter. 

You consider asking him since he’s chatty now that he’s calmed down ...but you decide not to push it. He’s been pretty giving already. 

Instead, you shove out of the co-pilot seat to finally take your leave. 

“You should get some rest”

“Bossy...”

“... ... _Kori_ says I’m smart,” you recall aloud with a fond lilt. “I prescribed her sleep. I’m prescribing it to you, too. Doctor’s orders.” 

His answering snort isn’t exactly cute, but it makes you grin. 

“I don’t take orders from you” 

“Of course not … ...good night”

You don’t wait for him to say anything and slip down the ladder easily. You use the fresher (for real this time) and then creep back into the bunk room. Kori’s face is slack and her breathing even, and you smile to see her at ease and not fretting like she had so much that night. 

She really is a good kid. 

And she’ll be alright. 

She’s also gone the next morning. 

Not that there is anywhere for her to go and get lost, but it momentarily startles you to see her rumpled blankets. If she manages to wake before you she usually rouses you up bumbling out of bed, if not more purposefully by asking you about breakfast or a game or whatever thing you’d last spoken to her about. 

You locate her in the galley sitting at the booth with Paz. There’s an empty plate littered with bread scraps in the middle of the table, and you imagine she’d finished her breakfast a while ago because she’s paying the plate no attention and is leaned in towards the Mandalorian in a conspiratorial way. 

“Hi sleepy,” she smiles wide enough that you have to smile back even though you’re still a little bleary from sleep. 

You hope there's already caf made. 

“ _You’re_ the one who’s up early,” you accuse since your watch buzzes to wake you at the exact same time every morning. 

But that’s probably not her fault. Instead you’re guessing that Paz came to quietly fetch her while you were asleep so he could talk to her without the chance of being interrupted and fed her in the process to keep her happy. You can even picture it.

It’s a nice visual t o say the absolute least. 

“And you even ate without me… ...did you make me some?” you tease her. “All I see are crumbs!” 

“Nope!” she continues to smile, nice and bright. 

“No? _No_?! Ugh, you wound me,” you throw a hand over your chest in faux-drama. 

“I think you’ll be okay” 

Her reaction is just _Paz_ enough to make you laugh. 

Speaking of. You glance at the man only for him to point past you. 

You turn and see there is another plate sitting on the prep counter with some sort of scramble and a piece of bread. _And a small mug of caf._

“Oh, see, _someone_ cares,” you tickle at Kori’s shoulder before throwing your grin to Paz. “Thanks.” 

“Mm. Might have to warm it,” he ticks his shoulder. Carless. 

Whatever. It’s still nice of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its-alltheway.tumblr.com


End file.
